


Bribery for Beginners

by asterismal (asterisms)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mistletoe, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterismal
Summary: In which both Harry and Tom take advantage of the circumstances (the circumstances being the sprig of mistletoe hung in the hallway leading to Harry’s office).
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 15
Kudos: 724





	Bribery for Beginners

Tom Riddle is following him again.

Normally, this would only be a minor annoyance, as Harry has grown used to having the man around and bothering him while he tries to focus on his work. Today, however, Harry is too busy to entertain his attempts at charm. He has a report due in less than two hours, because apparently Smith couldn’t be arsed to do it even though he and Harry had agreed  _ days ago _ how the work would be divided up, and Kingsley has asked him to present at a meeting this afternoon, a meeting which both the Head Auror  _ and _ the Head of the DMLE will be attending.

So, with a forceful sigh, Harry walks faster through the empty hall toward his office, as if this might force the man at his back to take the hint. All Riddle does is catch up, his tall frame giving him an entirely unfair advantage.

“You’re welcome to stop following me any time, you know,” Harry tells him, voice curt. 

Riddle only hums in thought then says, “No. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Harry demands. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees Riddle’s gaze is trained on the doorway before them. “What the hell does  _ that  _ mean?”

Riddle doesn’t answer. Because of course he doesn’t.

Harry only rolls his eyes, more than used to the way Riddle likes to play mysterious. When he walks through the doorway, Riddle snags him by the sleeve, forcing him to a halt. He stumbles, and it’s only Riddle’s grip on his arm that keeps him from falling. Since Riddle is the cause of his almost tumble, he can’t be bothered to feel very grateful.

“What the hell, Riddle?” he demands as he jerks his arm free and whirls to glare up at the taller man.

Riddle, looking far too pleased for Harry’s health, simply points up to the ceiling. When Harry looks up, eyes following the gesture, he sees… Mistletoe.

“No,” Harry says, catching on immediately, “No way.”

“But it’s tradition, Harry,” Riddle says, eyes gleaming.

“A muggle tradition,” Harry says hurriedly as he takes a step back, only to falter as he hits the doorjamb. Riddle doesn’t hesitate to crowd forward. “You hate muggles!”

“They have their uses,” Riddle says with a careless shrug. He grins, then, and it looks distinctly predatory. “Occasionally.”

“I am  _ not _ going to kiss you,” Harry tells him, because Riddle’s prejudice is less immediately threatening.

Riddle pouts at him, and it doesn’t look half as ridiculous as it should. “You’ve done it before,” he says. He leans forward, traps Harry against the doorjamb and says, breath warm against his cheek. “You liked it then.”

“I kissed you  _ once _ ,” Harry says as he presses his hands against Riddle’s chest, tries not to feel the solid press of muscle against his palms and does his best to forget the memory of a dark, hot room, of Riddle’s hands, heavy against his body. “On a dare. Four years ago.”

“That’s interesting,” Riddle says, lips curling into a smirk. He drops one hand to Harry’s waist, and the hand gripping his arm trails down. “You see, I seem to recall a little more than just a kiss.”

Harry’s cheeks flush with heat. “I— You—" Riddle raises a single eyebrow, and Harry scowls. He shoves ineffectually at Riddle’s chest. “You’re awful.”

“And then you avoided me,” Riddle says, as if Harry hasn’t spoken at all. “That hurt my feelings, Harry.”

“You have feelings?” Harry asks, waspish. Riddle frowns at him, disapproving, and Harry snorts. “Of course I avoided you. That’s what happens when you trap someone in a closet with you after they catch you—”

“You were scared of me?” Riddle interrupts, and he sounds almost pleased. “You certainly aren’t anymore. What changed?”

“I realized how much of a prat you are,” Harry tells him, voice flat. “Now let me go.”

“No,” Riddle says, thoughtful, “I don’t think I will.”

“For Merlin’s sake, Riddle.” Harry grabs Riddle’s hands where they’ve trailed down his back, dangerously close to his arse. “We’re at work! What are you, a fucking teenager?”

“Would you like me to beg, Harry?” Riddle asks, ignoring him again. “I can, you know. For you.”

“I want—”

Riddle sways forward, pressing Harry further back against the doorjamb as he leans down, until his lips are only a breath away from Harry’s neck. He speaks, and Harry shivers. “Please, Harry? Just one?”

“I—”

“One kiss,” Riddle says, and his lips brush against Harry’s skin. Harry thinks his knees might give out. “That’s all.”

His grip on Riddle’s hands falters, and Riddle takes full advantage. He slides one hand over Harry’s arse, pulling him forward until Harry feels the line of his cock, half-hard, press against his hip. The other, he drags up Harry’s back, trailing up the knobs of Harry’s spine.

When Riddle grins, Harry feels the press of teeth against his skin. He feels dizzy, like he can barely breathe, and Riddle gets bolder. He mouths at Harry’s neck, sucking a bruise just below Harry’s jaw. Harry gasps, tossing his head back to knock against the doorjamb. The shock of pain is just enough to cut through the haze of Riddle’s touch.

“Okay,” Harry says, breathless.

He grips Riddle by the hair, pulls his face away from his neck. It must sting, but Riddle is smiling at him, lips shining with spit and eyes gleaming, as if there’s nothing more he wants than to be standing here with Harry’s hand on him.

“Okay,” Harry says, a little firmer this time. Riddle moves to lean down once more, and Harry tightens his hold. Riddle winces. “On one condition.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow. “If you’re going to demand that I leave you alone—”

Harry interrupts him with a snort. “Oh, please,” he says, “I know better than to ask for  _ that _ . No, what I want is…” He hesitates, thinking. “I want your help getting Hermione’s resolution through the Wizengamot.”

Riddle looks surprised. “You have so little faith in Granger’s plan?"

“No,” Harry says, frowning. “It  _ will _ pass. Whether it passes now, or in three years, or in seven, it  _ will. _ But having someone from your lot back it up would make it happen sooner.”

“So you’ve decided to bribe the Senior Undersecretary?” Riddle asks, and he sounds delighted. The hand on Harry’s arse squeezes. “How corrupt of you.”

Before Harry can even begin to protest, Riddle bends to kiss him.

Riddle’s lips are soft, softer than they have any right to be, Harry thinks, but the way they move against his is insistent, and he can’t help the way he responds. It’s been years since he let Riddle hold him so close, but it feels like only yesterday. He nips at Riddle’s bottom lip, and Riddle moans, sucking Harry’s tongue into his mouth as he wraps one hand against Harry’s throat to hold him still.

He feels as if his whole body lights up at the touch, and he wraps his arms around Riddle’s neck, pulls himself impossible closer as Riddle slots one thigh between his parted legs.

When Riddle finally releases him, Harry takes a gasping breath, presses his head back against the doorjamb.

He opens his eyes, and Riddle is grinning down at him, face flushed. When he sees Harry is looking up at him, he traces his thumb along Harry’s jaw and says, “We have a deal.”

Harry nods. When he swallows, he feels his throat press against Riddle’s hand.

“Great,” he says, breathless. “You can let go now.”

“I would,” Riddle tells him, and the hand on his arse curls higher, until Riddle’s arm is wrapped around his waist, “Only, I think this kind of favor might be worth more than just one kiss. Don’t you?”

Harry’s eyes widen. “What—”

Riddle leans down and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Later that day, Harry hunts Riddle down with the sole purpose of cursing his hair to fall out.
> 
> “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Riddle asks once Harry lets up. While his hair is unfortunately still in place, it’s noticeably disheveled from the scuffle. “Or am I to guess?”
> 
> “I just got back from having a little _chat_ with Percy Weasley,” Harry tells him.
> 
> Tom raises one perfect brow, clearly wondering what this has to do with him, as if Percy hasn’t been determined to surpass him since the day they both started working at the Ministry. Sparks fall from Harry’s wand. He hopes Riddle’s rug catches fire.
> 
> “You see,” Harry says with entirely forced calm, and his smile is more a baring of teeth than anything else, “he saw me being molested in the hallway by the Senior Undersecretary, and he had some concerns.” 
> 
> Riddle only stares. Then he laughs, and Harry curses him again.


End file.
